


A Debate On Internal Affairs

by Almiaranger



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: M/M, basically they try to "work things out" after hours, cabinet meetings gone wild, jefferson and hamilton agree on nothing ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 15:01:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6157419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Almiaranger/pseuds/Almiaranger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After several minutes of pelting him with paper balls, Hamilton still isn’t getting the rise out of Jefferson that he wants, but he does notice the angry color Jefferson’s neck was turning and the tenseness of his shoulders. Hamilton snickers to himself when he notices that Washington is staring at Jefferson in confusion.</p><p>“Mr. Jefferson!”</p><p>“Yes, Mr. Washington?”</p><p>“Why are you covered in pieces of paper?”</p><p>“…I was attacked…”</p><p>or</p><p>Hamilton and Jefferson need to work things out before Washington strangles them both to death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Debate On Internal Affairs

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I haven't seen Hamilton yet because tickets are expensive as shit but I wrote this last year with my friends in AP U.S. History one day when our teacher was out (before this musical was even a thing lol). Oh, and there's a random, minor OC thrown in around the middle of the story but don't let that deter you, it's really nothing major. He's based on our super peppy and awesome teacher, in case you were wondering. 
> 
> This whole thing is stupidly humorous and wild but we had a good time, so hopefully you will too~

Circa. 1791

It is a chilly day in Philadelphia; the breeze flows through the windows of Washington’s Executive Cabinet’s meeting room. The room echoes with thunderous roars of Hamilton and Jefferson’s heated hour-long debate over the issue of slavery as other politicians sit meekly and listen.

“Slavery is a horrible establishment, but it is not the right of the federal government to regulate it!” hisses Jefferson.

Hamilton slams his fist against his desk. “Slavery takes away the natural rights of men who are equal to us inherently! It is in accordance with the Constitution that we secure the rights and liberties-”

Jefferson shoots up from his chair, knocking it to the ground as he yells, “It is in the hands of the people in individual states to determine whether we are to abolish slavery; this shouldn’t be the central government’s sole decision!”

Hamilton slowly rises from his political throne, glaring daggers at his arch enemy, but Washington suddenly intervenes in their debate exasperatedly, “Your repeated disagreements irk me! You two keep on repeating the same old arguments over and over again without coming to a single conclusion. I am done- you two can find a solution amongst yourselves while the rest of us enjoy our lunches elsewhere.”

Knox, Randolph, and Adams accompany President Washington out of the room, slamming the door behind them out of annoyance.

Jefferson immediately shoots a scathing look at Hamilton and glides over to his desk to pack his things. “What are you doing?” yells Hamilton.

“What do you think I’m doing? I’m collecting my things. I see no point in wasting my time trying to argue sense into a hard headed fool who wouldn’t know the truth if it was dressed in a corset and danced the waltz in front of him.” Jefferson proceeds to pack, then stomps toward the door.

Hamilton charges over and grabs Jefferson’s shoulder, pushing him against the wall and pinning him there with a hand on each shoulder. “What are you doing, you hooligan?!” stutters Jefferson.

“Let’s stop this charade- I know that you know that my ideas are correct! How can you be so stubborn and bullheaded that you cannot realize that your argument is majorly flawed?”

Jefferson breathes in sharply, preparing a retort in his head, 'My argument is flawed? You bloody well know that the entire- oh my, he smells amazing! Like apple cider and- stop it, Thomas; you need to get him off of you!'

Jefferson shoves Hamilton but Hamilton is too strong. Jefferson grips his enemy’s arms in a desperate attempt to loosen Hamilton’s grip on him, stunned by the touch of Hamilton’s muscles and their impressive strength.

“What are you doing?” Hamilton gasps in exasperation as Jefferson inclines his head towards him, confusion apparent on Jefferson’s face. “Jefferson? Jeffy? Thomas? Are you alright?” Hamilton stares at Jefferson, concern showing in his eyes.

“What?” Jefferson responds, cheeks tinted red as he lifts his head guiltily away from Hamilton’s.

“Are you okay? You looked dazed for a minute; you’re not sick, are you?” Hamilton grasps Jefferson’s head and draws it closer to get a good look at him.

“Oh… no, no I’m fine! Your concern is pointless, really! I’m fine, I don’t know what came over me, but I’m fine now.” Jefferson jerks his head back in an attempt to leave, but the wall blocks his escape.

Hamilton seems to ignore Jefferson’s pleas of good health and presses his body harder against Jefferson, getting on the tips of his toes in order to attain a better view of the towering man. He’s not that bad looking for a ginger, Hamilton thinks while studying Jefferson’s face. He quickly sweeps his eyes down Jefferson’s body. Hamilton smirks a little and grasps Jefferson’s waist. “What are you thinking about, Jeffy?” Hamilton purrs.

Jefferson blushes. “Don’t call me that!”

“Well, what do you want me to call you? Jeff, perhaps? How about Tommy Boy?”

“I prefer my given name, not some stupid nickname that you deem fit to bestow upon me. Now let go of me!”

“Thomas, then,” Hamilton says audaciously. “You know, I love how it rolls off the tongue. Thomas. Thomas. It’s really... a titillating name- if I do say so myself. And you, of course, may call me Alexander.”

“Hamil- Alexander,” Jefferson glances around nervously, “I…I’m not sure what you are getting at, but you need to stop this instant!”

“Thomas, I think there is only one solution to end our bickering,” Hamilton says, his eyes holding a wicked gleam.

“For you to admit that you are horribly wrong in every idea you ever came up with?” Jefferson retorts, sounding hollow, realizing the fight was over and he had lost to the man before him.

Hamilton strokes Jefferson’s side and opens his mouth to speak when the door to the room opens. Hamilton jumps away from Jefferson while Jefferson tries to adjust his now wrinkled clothes.

“Have you two finally ceased arguing?” Washington asks with a knowing look, standing in the doorway with the fellow cabinet members gawking behind him.

“Why yes, I believe we have,” reports Hamilton. “We were just making arrangements to meet each other tomorrow after dinner to hash things out.”

Jefferson looks around nervously and can barely keep his blush down from the idea that President Washington almost found him with Hamilton in such a compromising position. “Yes… Alexander and I shall meet later on to work out our… disagreements.”

With his back to Washington, Hamilton gives Jefferson a searching look and smiles. It appears to Hamilton that he and Jefferson were indeed going to pick up from where they left off, but hopefully in a more suitable, private place tomorrow.

~~~

“You’re looking exceptionally well this evening, Thomas,” Hamilton says, greeting a fidgeting Jefferson at the door. Jefferson clears his throat as he is lead through the front door into Hamilton’s estate. Jefferson attempts to remove his overcoat when suddenly Hamilton’s fingers lay softly on Jefferson’s shoulders, tightly pulling the heavy garment off. “Allow me,” he whispers, gently placing the garment on its rack.

“I’m not sure if I’m ready for this…” chirps Jefferson.

“We don’t have to rush, if you’re unsure,” Hamilton assures him.

“How about we start with a drink?” Jefferson asks in a desperate attempt to calm his nerves.

“Care for a glass of whiskey?” Hamilton strides towards his sitting room, stocked with the alcohol of politicians.

“I’m more of a wine type of guy, a good Chardonnay would be lovely if you have some,” responds Jefferson, ever the aristocrat.

Hamilton reaches for his last bottle of Chardonnay and two wine glasses, pouring slowly to pass the time.

“I think this is more of a straight from the bottle type of situation,” says Jefferson in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

Hamilton’s lips part in a smile as he hands Jefferson a glass of the aged white wine. “Try this.”

Jefferson swirls the wine and smells it before taking a delicate sip. After a few seconds of letting it rest on his tongue, Jefferson takes a hearty swig of wine, almost completely emptying his glass.

“Am I making you that nervous?” Hamilton chuckles, refilling Jefferson’s glass.

“Not at all, this constitutes a normal weekend for me, Hammy.” A drunken red blush was starting to appear on Jefferson’s cheeks. Jefferson takes another gulp from his glass. 

“You look so adorable when you blush like that, Jeffy,” Hamilton says, raising a hand to caress his cheek. 

“Fuck you, I am not ‘adorable,'” Jefferson sneers, smacking Hamilton’s hand from his face. “I will let you know that the last person who called me that met an untimely end.”

“Oh, and who was that?” Hamilton asks with a hidden jealousy that bypassed Jefferson’s increasingly drunken state.

“Why that person, who used to live there… you know, a that place. It was a long time ago, so stop interrogating me! I’m not as inexperienced as you think I am,” Jefferson replies in an obvious lie.

“Well, I suppose you are just going to have to prove that to me, aren’t you?” Hamilton challenges, taking a sip of his wine.

Jefferson finishes his wine quickly and holds it out in the air, “Where is my refill? The bloody service in here is horrific.” Jefferson rambles, clearly intoxicated now.

“I should just let you finish the bottle,” Hamilton laughs, pouring another glass for the impatient, drunk Jefferson.

Jefferson polishes off the glass and proceeds to pass out on the carpet, spilling his wine everywhere. It probably didn’t help that Jefferson had forgoed dinner due to nerves.

Hamilton sighs. His guest bedrooms upstairs are empty, fortunately enough for Jefferson. In fact, the whole house is empty. Hamilton can only imagine what people would speculate, seeing the two of them alone together overnight. But for now, Hamilton puts down his glass and proceeds to carry Jefferson out of the lounge and into a private bedroom, heaving as he did.

“Hamilton…” Jefferson sighs sleepily, “you’re such a jackass…”

“I’m not the one who gulped down three glasses in ten minutes. You, Mr. Jefferson, hold that record,” Hamilton replies affectionately. Hamilton sets Jefferson down in his guest bed and takes off Jefferson’s shoes. He pulls the covers over Jefferson and stares down at his face. “You are an adorable drunk- and I do mean adorable.” Hamilton gently strokes Jefferson’s hair and leaves for his own bedroom to sleep, hoping for a better date with Jefferson sometime soon.

~~~

“Aughhhh, what the hell!” Jefferson screams, awakening with a start. “Why am I soaking wet?!”

“I tried to wake you up gently, but you wouldn’t get up,” Hamilton says with a smirk.

“So you decided to drench me in water? You’re insane!” Jefferson looks around and finally takes in his surroundings. “Where am I? I don’t recall what happened last night. Did we… did we… you know, do that?” Jefferson looks away nervously and bunches the sheets up around his chest.

“No, you passed out drunk and I had to carry you upstairs, but not before you insulted me repeatedly,” Hamilton replies with a fond smile. “It’s before dawn, I think you should leave now. I would hate for our reputations to be at stake.”

As Jefferson begins to put on his shoes, there is a knock on the door, “Who the hell is up this early in the morning?”

Jefferson’s face goes pale as he whispers, “Do you think it’s bad news? President Washington was complaining earlier at dinner that he was feeling under the weather.”

Hamilton laughs lightly, still a hint of worry in his expression, “I’m sure President Washington is fine, it’s probably a salesman with a lack of manners.”. Both men know that Hamilton is most definitely wrong, but choose to try and believe the latter rather than the alternative.

The host murmurs to him, “You should towel your face dry while I get the door. The powder room is down the hall.”

Hamilton walks out of the room and down the stairs, afraid to open the door. The person behind the door starts knocking again and Hamilton quickly pulls the door open, preparing for the worst.

“Hi! I’m your new neighbor, Jason Stone! It’s nice to meet you! I’ve heard that you are the Secretary of Treasury; I’ve always been interested in politics and history! I would love to pick your brain one of these days!” the man says, standing in the doorway with a smile and a bright sparkle in his eyes.

Hamilton contemplates just slamming the door in his face but realizes that he shouldn’t because… well, Hamilton couldn’t quite remember why. While Hamilton tries to recall why exactly he shouldn’t slam the door in this Jason person’s face, Jason Stone continues to babble on about obscure history facts and how they related to something or other. It is too early for Hamilton to really process anything of intellectual significance. “Why… are you knocking on my door at this time in the morning?” Hamilton finally asks with a drawn look.

“Oh, wow! It’s six in the morning, isn’t it? Sorry, I’m such a morning person! I get up before the sun on most days and I still manage to be excited and happy!” Hamilton just stares at him, dumbfounded, when he hears Jefferson making his way down the steps.

“I’m sorry Mr. Stone, but I have to go. Why don’t we speak at some other time, preferably after the sun has risen,” Hamilton says, slowly inching the door closed.

“Awwww, I thought we were having such a lovely chat! I shall see you at a more reasonable time, then!” Mr. Stone starts to walk away and Hamilton closes the door fully. He seems like a nice man, but it is far too early to talk about history.

“Who was that? Is President Washington okay?” Jefferson says, the worry palpable in his voice.

“Washington is fine, it was a man by the name of Jason Stone. He’s apparently my new neighbor.”

“What is he doing up and about, calling on his neighbors at this time?” Jefferson said with a bit of a scowl.

“I don’t know, but you really should get going, the sun is starting to rise.” Jefferson starts to move past Hamilton to get to the door, when Hamilton grabs his arm and pulls him close.

“Before you leave,” Hamilton whispers, dragging Jefferson into his arms. “I want to do something I’ve been waiting for all night.” Hamilton leans in and gives Jefferson chaste kiss on the mouth, then lightly pushes a stunned Jefferson, his should-be-rival, out the door.

Jefferson leans against the now shut door and stares out on the street, too dazed to move. After a few minutes tick by, he manages gather himself and walk off to his house, a small smile spreading across his face.

~~~

“It is of utmost importance-” Jefferson tunes out Adams and stares vapidly at his freakishly beak-like nose, all the while thinking about the kiss he shared with Hamilton. Jefferson can barely keep his head knowing that Hamilton is only a few feet from him yet unattainable at the moment.

“But if we don’t establish a national banking system, how are we supposed to pay for the war we just won- winning wasn’t free, you know.” Hamilton asks, his annoyance getting the better of him. In truth, all he had been thinking about was Jefferson, the drunken nap Jefferson had taken in the man’s bed, the kiss that would hopefully bring more… Getting involved in this economic debate was supposed to take Hamilton’s mind off things but it did little good to soothe the thoughts of Jefferson that plagued his brain.There goes Hamilton about his ridiculous ideas for our country again. He gets so passionate about those schemes of his. Jefferson quickly blushes when his thoughts turn to Hamilton’s passions used in a more creative way.

“What are your thoughts on this matter, Mr. Jefferson? You’ve been awfully quiet,” Washington asks. He knows Jefferson well- to not say a heated word when Hamilton is talking is unlike him.

“Yes, I agree with Beaky- I mean Adams! Banks are bad, they hurt the… no, they are unconstitutional and… menacing.” Jefferson looks around nervously for a savior but he is on his own. “I’m sorry, I have a minor headache. Can I please have a moment to collect my thoughts?”

Hamilton snickers, directing his gaze down at his desk to avoid arousing suspicion. Jefferson is all talk, of course he wouldn’t be able to hold his liquor; his hangover is obvious.

George Washington shoots Hamilton a glare. “And what may I ask do you find so funny, Mr. Hamilton?”

Hamilton looks up and composes himself. “It’s can assure you that it is nothing, Mr. Washington..”

“No, please enlighten me. You know I appreciate a good joke when there is one to be had,” Washington insists, refusing to give Hamilton a break. Jefferson shoots Hamilton a glare that tells him that he will not get off lightly if he tells the cabinet that he was laughing at him.

“Well, I just never imagined that Mr. Jefferson could possibly have a wild night that would result in such a hangover,” Hamilton chuckles, and the room is swept with whispered laughs as everyone entertains the idea of the hungover aristocrat. Jefferson glares directly at Hamilton. He will never live this down.

“I said I have a headache; I never brought up alcohol, nor a wild night. I have a high tolerance when it come to handling my liquor. I do not make a fool of myself in public when it comes to the drink, though one could make the opposite case with you. Remember last year’s Christmas party, Mr. Hamilton?” Jefferson’s words rang with clear menace.

Hamilton turns to Jefferson, aggravated and slightly amused at whatever game he was playing. “There is no sound reason to bring that up. It was a party and I had a fun time. I don’t suppose you’d know what that is.”

“Really? How could you be having fun, passed out under the tree as you were?” Jefferson smirks and the room starts to guffaw.

“Stop it right now, you two!” George Washington thunders over the sound of laughter. The noise quickly dies down as Jefferson and Hamilton realize they are in a war zone with George Washington about to gun them down.

“My apologies,” says Hamilton, ever the gentleman.

Washington just glares at him. “I thought that you two were going to work out your differences last night? I am deeply disappointed in you both.”

Jefferson stares at the floor and the meeting continues on as normal.

Hamilton’s mind keeps wandering during the meeting now that everything has settled down. With little to do, Hamilton decides to spend his time annoying Jefferson. Quickly tearing his parchment and pressing the pieces into little balls, he proceeds to hurl them repeatedly at Jefferson who was sitting diagonally in front of him.

Jefferson is finally getting into the swing of things when bits of paper start to pelt his cheek. Thinking about what a slimy bastard Hamilton is, Jefferson decides to not even dignify him with a response as the bits of paper keep on hitting him, but Jefferson is losing patience quickly.

Hamilton isn’t getting the rise out of Jefferson that he wants, but he does notice the angry color Jefferson’s neck was turning and the tenseness of his shoulders. Hamilton snickers to himself when he notices that Washington is staring at Jefferson with confusion.

“Mr. Jefferson!”

“Yes, Mr. Washington?”

“Why are you covered in pieces of paper?”

“…I was attacked…”

Washington gives Jefferson an incredulous look before a scowl takes presence on his face. Washington turns to look at Hamilton.

Hamilton quickly realizes that if he doesn’t talk to Jefferson soon, he’s never going to be able to concentrate on the meeting- and he might as well hope to stall the stern talking to that George Washington is surely planning on giving him. “Gentleman, I believe we have presented our arguments. Perhaps we should take a break for now to fully process everything?” Hamilton proposes to the council.

Washington sighs and calls for a recess with the hope of fewer distractions after a brief break. Hamilton stands up, barely able to wait for a chance to talk to Jefferson, but said man is already out of the door. Jefferson heads back to his office in the hopes of gaining a clear mind, for Hamilton has infected his mind like the sexy parasite that he is. “There is only one way to resolve this,” Jefferson mumbles to himself as he enters the office and closes the door. With the knowledge that Hamilton was surely going to follow him to try and get under his skin, Jefferson starts to formulate a plan.

Hamilton follows Jefferson at a slow place, confident that Jefferson had every intention of going to his office. Hamilton has finally decided that he can’t wait anymore and shall do the deed with Jefferson before the start of the meeting. This isn't quite the long romantic night that Hamilton had been planning for, but in this moment he doesn’t care- he just can’t wait anymore. As Jefferson enters his own office, Hamilton waits a few minutes before going in, in hope of letting Jefferson have time to relax before Hamilton springs himself unto his dear Jeffy.

As soon as Hamilton opens the door, Jefferson pounces, slamming the door shut roughly with a surprised Hamilton now inside. Jefferson attacks Hamilton’s mouth with a fierceness that surprises Hamilton, who never imagined Jefferson would be instigator of anything in their relationship. Hamilton, not one to give up the upper hand, quickly flips their positions, pinning Jefferson’s arms above his head to the door. Minutes later they part to catch their breath and pant for air, heads resting against each other. With a smirk, Hamilton coyly purrs, “I think it’s finally time that I show you the benefits of a big, strong central government.”

Jefferson chuckles, not afraid or embarrassed anymore, just excited. “And I think it is time for me to show you the benefit of a state dominant government,” Jefferson says with a raised eyebrows as he undoes Hamilton’s ponytail, running his fingers through the silky brunette hair. Hamilton smirks at this new side of Jefferson and starts to hastily unbutton Jefferson’s shirt.

“I guess we’ll just have to see whose plans are better; you wouldn’t want to be cheated out of a greater nation, now would you?”

~~~

Washington has had it with Jefferson and Hamilton. Not only do they disrupt his important cabinet meeting, but now they are ten minutes late to the renewed session. “They better have a pretty damn good excuse,” Washington hisses as he rounds the corner of the hallway leading to Jefferson’s office.

President Washington walks straight up the door and opens it, too mad to knock as the proper gentleman typically would. “What do you think-” Washington stops at the site before him. There sit Jefferson and Hamilton locked together on Jefferson’s desk, the desk top cleared of its previous inhabitants, who seem to of found a new home scattered about on the floor. Hamilton and Jefferson are in a rather precarious state of undress and are too preoccupied to notice their new guest. Groans can be heard from both parties and Washington pales before slowly backing out of the room, quietly closing the door.

Washington, in a state of shock, walks down the hallway and back to the meeting, telling the other members that Hamilton and Jefferson are occupied with an important engagement. After a while, the shock starts to drift away and Washington starts to come to terms with what he just saw. At least they aren’t likely to take out their frustrations during the council’s time anymore, President Washington thinks, chuckling to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> In case you want to hmu about anything founding father related, you can find me under the name homosexualobster on tumblr. Thanks for reading!


End file.
